


Scenes From a Relationship

by froggy (therealfroggy)



Category: Die Hard (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Rimming, striptease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 02:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/froggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four short, steamy scenes from John and Matt's excellent adventures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scenes From a Relationship

**Mouth**  
“Come on, Matt. Crack the code. We need that password.”

Matt was panting heavily. His fingers shook on the keys. He was trying to think; he really was.

“Focus, Matt.”

“I'm trying!” the hacker pleaded, shifting around in his seat. “Just, please, come on, John...”

“I'm doing my part, Matt,” the detective said, grinning against the inside of Matt's thigh. “Now you do yours.”

Matt took a deep breath and set his fingers to work. He typed, so much slower than he usually did, but he was working.

It was so fucking difficult to code and decode when John McClane's mouth was slicking his cock up with saliva.

“Ooh,” Matt moaned, letting his eyes slip closed for a heartbeat. He opened them quickly, determined to finish this.

He tapped the keys at a furious pace, working towards the password they needed. Well, need was a strong word for an experiment risen from watching a semi-good movie, but Matt had still insisted they do this before he cracked the code.

John's tongue toyed with the head of his erection, and Matt was panting. He tried to focus on the screen, but it was difficult. The detective sucked harder, and the hacker grasped the edge of the desk to keep himself grounded.

“John,” he began, but that only caused the older man to release him from his mouth.

“No, Matt, you need that password. Come on, focus.”

And then he cupped Matt's balls, sucking harder still.

Matt cried out and let his hand fly to John's shorn head. “John!”

Tongue against the underside of his cock, suction and heat, and John's nose nuzzling into his thigh when he occasionally relented the torture he was submitting Matt to. Matt whimpered.

“I think you lose, Matty,” John said, and then he gave Matt's cock another hard suck.

“I lose, I lose,” Matt whined, shoving his chair away from the computer before throwing himself at John where he knelt on the floor. “Please fuck me!”

“That good, huh?” John said with amusement.

“Your mouth's always that good,” Matt said, blushing.

Good enough, in fact, to render him useless at coding. And make him not care that he was useless, too. John's mouth was great.

 

 **Old Dogs _Can_ Learn New Tricks**  
“John, how come we're always doing this?”

John looked up from where he was squirting lube into his hand, situated between Matt's spread legs. He looked surprised. “What, have sex? I thought you liked having sex.”

Matt laughed, sitting up. John moved back to make room for him. “Yeah, I like having sex. I love having sex; I almost only had cyber sex until you came along and saved the friggin' world. What I mean is, why are we always doing it like this?”

John frowned, confused. “Like what?”

“Missionary. You on top. I'm sure there's a lot of other things we can do.”

John looked scared for a second before his face slipped back into a mask of the gruffness that Matt found so mind-blowingly sexy. “I don't know how, kid; I only ever did it like this with Holly, too. Well, apart from oral.”

Matt grinned, then, getting to his knees. “Well, then I guess it's time to learn, isn't it?”

John sat back, smiling now. “Really? I thought you didn't have sex before me.”

“Once,” Matt said, sitting up. “Once at this gaming weekend. Big gathering; lots of people. And the guy sitting next to me was kinda the inventive sort. Or, I don't know, maybe he was just kinky. But he and I...”

John looked expectantly at Matt. The boy was blushing.

“Shit, I don't even know what it's called,” Matt laughed, then moved practically into John's lap. “But I can show you.”

John cocked an eyebrow at the younger man. “Go ahead.”

“You have to be on your knees,” Matt said, blushing a little. “And, um, bend over.”

John looked sceptical, but moved across the bed so he could rest his head on a pillow while kneeling. “Okay. This had better be good, kid.”

Matt didn't even consider that as a threat; the older man was a bit apprehensive and Matt knew it. He grinned and moved in behind the other man. “It will be. Pretty sure about that.”

_Okay, I'm pretty sure I remember this, too. I think..._

He leaned forwards, looking at the naked man before him. He wasn't exactly squeamish; he'd loved having this done to him and he didn't mind doing it, either.

Opening his mouth, Matt leaned in and breathed hot air over John's entrance. He'd never once fucked the other man, so he didn't know how he'd react.

“What the fuck, kid?” John said, giving a start.

Matt didn't retreat, but put a hand on each side of the older man's ass. “Stay still, I haven't started yet.”

Matt could literally see John steeling himself; the cop's hands clenched in the pillow and his body tensed. Matt took a deep breath, and dived in.

***

_Holy fucking shit!_

John was prepared for a lot of things, but not for the unexpected feeling of a wet tongue gliding over his... his...

“Kid, what the hell...”

It was all he had time to pant before Matt upped the stakes and began pushing his tongue _inside_ John. The older man groaned; it felt... distinctly good. Better. Fucking incredible.

Matt's tongue was wet, slick, warm and insistent. It was pushing further in, probing, digging. John let fly a curse and a groan, not even sure what he said.

“Okay?”

John had to shake his head to actually hear the question. “What?”

“You okay?” Matt repeated, his voice thick with lust. “Or should I stop?”

“No, fuck, don't stop,” John grunted, fingers digging into the pillows. “Please.”

Matt laughed softly. “John McClane saying please? How can I stop?”

And then he made John say please again, and again, because every time that tongue moved – sliding suggestively over his entrance or thrusting into it – John panted the word. Please... Please...

“Fuck!” John growled, bucking back as Matt's fingers dug into his thighs. “Kid, you're fucking amazing!”

Matt's nose was bumping into John's skin, and the kid's tongue was flicking now. John couldn't take it any more; he fumbled behind him until his hand found Matt's head and stilled the industrious tongue by touching the boy's cheek.

“Matt,” he panted, throat dry and raspy, “you need to stop. Fuck, stop or I'll come over the sheets.”

Matt stopped, sat back and grinned. “Why not?”

John sat up and looked at Matt, dazed with pleasure. “Why... not?”

Matt crawled back in, pressing against John and sliding his hand slowly down the older man's back. “Yeah. Why not? We can wash them tomorrow.”

John pulled the kid to him and nipped playfully at his ear. “It's not about that, Matty. I don't want to come over the sheets. I want to come in your fine ass.”

Matt swallowed drily. “Shit.”

“No, fuck,” John countered, grinning. “Now.”

Matt nodded his head dumbly, but didn't lie down. “Doggy? Try more new stuff?”

“Mm,” John agreed, neglecting the lube in favour of prepping Matt _orally_. “Now bend over. Let's see if the tutoring paid off.”

 

 **Straddled**  
John was drinking his coffee. His breakfast coffee, at that. He was reading the paper, drinking his morning cup of coffee and trying to wake up.

He was. Until Matt entered, of course. He strolled over to John, stark naked, and stole a sip of his coffee. Then he grinned, got to his knees in front of the chair, and reached for John's slacks.

“Hey, kid!” John stuttered, quickly putting his cup down. “Easy!”

“Nuh-uh,” Matt argued, pulling John's cock out. “I'm gonna blow you right here, in your kitchen.” He grinned. “It's gonna be fun.”

John chuckled. “You're not right in the head, kid.”

But Matt was already wetting his lips. Then he slid them around John's cock, pushing the older man's legs apart so he could have better access.

“Fuck,” John breathed, shifting his hips so he could give Matt a better angle. He grew hard the instant Matt's lips surrounded him; John had thought he was way past his sexual prime but apparently, he was wrong.

Matt eagerly bobbed his head a few more times, tongue pressing against John's flesh, then paused to look up at John. “Wanna fuck me?”

“Now?” John asked, confused. He had to be at work in an hour.

“Right here, right now,” Matt nodded. “On that very chair.”

John's mouth was already dry, and hearing that didn't make it any better. “In... while I'm sitting like this?”

“Yes!” Matt said, eyes glittering. He got to his feet, then climbed into John's lap, facing him. “Fuck me just like this.”

His cock trapped between Matt's ass cheeks, John groaned loudly. “Shit, kid, you're killing me here!”

“Then fuck me,” Matt begged, his legs to either side of John making it easy for him to grind down. “Please?”

“Lube?” John panted, one hand going around Matt to press him closer.

Matt grinned deviously. He produced a small tube from the counter right behind John. “Knew we'd have sex in here sooner or later.”

“So you just left the lube right there?” John panted, coating himself slickly. “You little nymphomaniac.”

Matt laughed delightedly, purring as well when John's fingers slid over his entrance. “But it turns you on.”

“Fuck yes!” John agreed, smirking up at Matt's eager face. He slid his fingers into Matt's tightness, stretching and slicking it.

Matt sighed appreciatively and pushed down on John's fingers. “Mmm...”

With Matt open and relaxed ( _And naked, dammit! Bare naked!_ ) in his lap, it took John too much restraint to go slow. He removed his fingers. “Ready?” This, a growl.

“Yes,” was the needy reply. “Yes, now!”

John held himself steady, trying to thrust up into Matt. He didn't quite get there. With a frown he tried again.

“Wait, hold on,” Matt panted, shifting closer to John in his lap. “Try now...”

_There_. John slid slowly into Matt as the younger man lowered himself onto him.

“Kinda difficult,” John said, pulling Matt down for a kiss. “How do I fuck you like this?”

“Maybe I fuck myself,” Matt grinned. Then he used the leverage of his legs to move up and down again on John's cock.

John groaned loudly. “Yeah. That... could work.”

Matt's hips moved against his own, and John groaned again.

“Why didn't we try this before?” Matt stuttered. His body writhed in John's arms. When he lowered himself _just like that_ , his prostate was attacked deliciously by John's cock.

Matt leaned in to enthusiastically kiss the older man. Their tongues pushed slickly against each other, and Matt made little happy noises into the kiss. John's hands, big and calloused, took hold of Matt's hips and helped settle them into a good rhythm. They pushed and moved together, kissing fervently until Matt broke the kiss to beg.

“Touch me, John,” he hissed. “Please. I... need -”

John leaned back enough to grab Matt's cock, stroking it fast. “What, Matty? What do you need?”

“You,” Matt gasped, riding John frantically. “N – need you to touch me!”

“Fuck, kid,” John panted, stroking faster yet. “You're fucking unbelievable!”

Matt cried out, a little yelp tumbling from his lips, as he came around John. His movements ceased, and the kid tensed in pleasure. John's hand was slick with the proof of it.

“Christ, John,” Matt whimpered, shuddering in the older man's grasp. “My legs are killing me!”

John chuckled. “Want me to bend you over the kitchen table instead?”

John could understand the strain of straddling him like that, but he'd be damned if he let Matt go before he'd had his share of the fun.

“Fuck no,” Matt said, a tired grin on his face. “I'm going to finish this.”

And then he resumed his rocking motions with a vengeance. He grasped the back of the chair, pressing closer, and bucked in John's lap.

“Come on, old man,” Matt grinned, clenching around John's cock. “Fucking give over, John; you've got to be at work soon!”

John growled something about “whelp” and “nymphomaniac,” but he let Matt manhandle his body faster and faster, letting go of all control. The heat and tightness alone usually made his head spin; when Matt was so determined and playful, it drove him crazy.

And then Matt _looked_ at him; gave him that wide-eyed, open gaze that meant he wanted John all over himself, all to himself, and John came hard.

“Matty!” John grunted, hips straining up to meet the younger man's. “Matt!”

Between them, their bodies grinding into each other, there was barely air left. John gasped tiredly as Matt's body slowly eased up on him, tight muscle unclenching and limbs trembling. Those long, slender limbs, still wrapped around him.

John smiled. “Kid. You're not right in the head, you know that?”

Matt laughed, tired, sweaty, his hair wildly messy and his eyes glassy with satiation. “I know. You don't mind, do you? I can tell you don't mind. You're doing that little almost-smile again.”

John's eyes crinkled. “Almost-smile, eh?”

“Yeah. You know the one you get when you're amused, but since you're _that_ guy, you don't smile properly. You just sort of... almost-smile,” Matt prattled happily.

John sighed, and pulled Matt to him for a brief kiss. “I don't think I'll ever get you, kid. Why you're staying.”

Matt chuckled. “Who else would let me molest them in the kitchen an hour before work? _That's_ what makes you that guy. My guy. Now get up, you're going to need another shower or the other detectives are going to wonder why you're smelling of hacker spunk.”

 

 **Requesting a Private Show**  
Matt had found John's old record collection. Old vinyl record collection, at that. And while digging through it, he had discovered a Joe Cocker record, which he was enthusiastically shoving in John's face.

“Didn't even know that was in there. Must've been Holly's,” John said expressionlessly.

“Must've been Holly's, my ass!” Matt grinned, grabbing the record and making quick work of putting it on. “You're a Cocker fan!”

John scowled. “Don't tell me you got anything against Joe Cocker!”

Matt was the very personification of mirth. “I don't; I just didn't have him down in the same crew as Creedence, you know?”

Funky saxophone music filled the living room. Matt laughed delightedly. He started singing along.

_Baby take off your coat..._

John laughed, too. “I didn't think you liked old music.”

“You kidding me? Joe Cocker is badass!” Matt said.

John turned back to the counter, frowning at the bacon. He could make an omelette, maybe? Turning back to Matt, he said, “Hey, kid, what do you want for dinner?”

But Matt obviously didn't care about dinner. He was swaying around the living room, singing under his breath, bare feet moving silently on the floor. He was dancing.

_Baby, take of your dress,  
yes, yes, yes..._

John smirked. Matt's ratty old jeans weren't exactly a dress, but they'd do in a pinch.

Matt turned around, caught John looking at him, and smiled. He mouthed the words as he moved, swinging his hips seductively.

_You can leave your hat on  
you can leave your hat on..._

Grinning mischievously, Matt lightly grasped the hem of his teeshirt and pulled it up, displaying a sliver of pale, smooth skin. Pulling further, hips swaying hypnotically back and forth, Matt slowly slid his shirt up and off, leaving his hair adorably ruffled.

_Go over there, turn on the lights  
no – all the lights..._

John had to take another sip of his beer. His mouth was sandpaper dry.

Matt turned around, shoulders and waist joining his hips in the action, and writhed about a bit more. His jeans were riding low on his hips, and as John watched, they slid even lower – Matt had apparently started taking them off.

“Fuck, kid,” John rasped, chugging some more beer. “Where did you learn this?”

“It's called dancing, McClane,” Matt said. He turned back around, and John had his suspicions confirmed – the jeans were coming off, and the top of Matt's light blue boxers were showing.

The jeans were slid down. John sucked down the last drop of beer, feeling strangely overheated. Matt gave him a wink and kept turning, rotating slowly on the spot while denim slid down his legs before pooling on the floor.

_Suspicious minds are talking  
they're trying to tear us apart..._

Matt, now in nothing but boxer shorts, did something wholly illegal with his hips and spine (John was pretty sure there was some law of nature saying Matt should not be able to bend backwards like that while his hips pushed his ass out for show). He gave John the bedroom eyes; the hungry, chocolatey gaze he only used when he meant business.

“Fuck, kid, you're killing me, here,” John growled, but didn't lunge out for Matt like he wanted to. The kid was too entrancing like that; dancing cat-like in John's living room.

“Then slip a few dollar bills in my panties and I'll take you out back for a private dance,” Matt laughed, slinking over to John. “I can move in a lot of really interesting ways...”

John groaned, grabbing Matt by the neck and pulling him close, leaning in to breathe hot air over Matt's naked collar bone. The boy shivered, hands tightening in John's shirt (and since when had he grabbed fistfuls of that, anyway?).

“Give me the private dance, Matty,” John requested, kissing Matt's sternum. He looked into the brown eyes, wide and eager, and smiled. “A private show just for me.”

“Yeah, uh, sit down, then, detective, and get ready for your lap dance,” Matt replied, licking his lips.

John sat down on the couch, making himself comfortable. He watched with amusement as Matt changed records with lightning speed, then came back to the couch, standing eagerly in front of the older man.

_Oh Susie Q, oh Susie Q  
oh Susie Q, baby I love you, oh Susie Q..._

John's eyebrows shot towards his non-existent hairline. “Kid?”

“Shut up,” Matt said, climbing slowly into John's lap, skin brushing up against everything. “Talk later. Watch now.”

John chuckled, but didn't say anything else. With Creedence filling the air, and a nearly-naked Matt in his lap, he didn't dare protest. He slid his hands slowly onto Matt's hips, thumbs stroking along the waistband of his shorts.

Matt's hips ground down, and John sucked in a breath. Matt's hands on his shoulders were warm, pulling and clinging, and then Matt leaned in to kiss him.

“Don't wanna dance any more,” he murmured, moving his lips to John's earlobe. Sucking gently on it. “Wanna fuck.”

John gave a short bark of laughter. “Really.”

“Mm. Please fuck me? I can dance some other time.”

“On the couch, kid,” John groaned, only too happy to agree with the younger man. He opened his belt and fly. “On your back.”

Matt moaned, biting down John's throat. “Really?”

“Really.”

Matt slid off John and laid down on the couch, his feet in John's lap. John got to his knees above him, dragged the shorts down, and threw them to the floor.

“Spread your legs, then,” John said, voice rough and low. Matt did, looking with begging eyes at the older man.

John fumbled in the drawer underneath the coffee table for a condom and lube. He felt a little like a pervert nymphomaniac, but after Matt moved in, they'd stashed the place with sex accessories, hidden in drawers and discreet boxes everywhere.

And a good thing, too; John didn't think he could have waited to go find the stuff in their bedroom. He wanted to be inside Matt, preferably two minutes ago. It was all he could to to keep calm as he pushed his own jeans and shorts down, just far enough release his cock.

One of the pillows was shoved quickly under Matt's hips. John rolled the condom on, slicked his fingers, and pressed two into Matt. The boy sighed happily, hooking one leg over the back of the couch, spreading himself wider.

“John,” he panted, “hurry.”

John grunted non-committally, too hard to trust his voice. He barely slicked himself up before lining himself up with Matt's entrance. “Ready?”

“Fuck yes,” Matt breathed as John slid slowly inside him. “Fuck.”

John grabbed the younger man's erection with his slick hand, stroking quickly. He was almost painfully hard; he needed to make Matt come before he lost it. “Yeah.”

Matt's head fell back against the armrest; he mewled softly and clenched around John, making the older man cry out. His hands were clawing at John's shirt-clad shoulders.

“John, fuck, you're hard,” Matt whimpered, writhing beneath the other man. “Oh, fuck...”

“Too much?” John asked, concerned. He rocked slowly into the pliant body he just couldn't get enough of. “Want me to go slow?”

“No!” Matt moaned. He pulled John down for a brief kiss. “Harder!”

John's head spun. Matt did that sometimes; begged for more, harder, faster, _fuck me, John_. Matt clawed through the skin on his shoulders, pleading with John to fuck his brains out. John grunted and bit down hard on Matt's neck. Sucked, formed a dark love bite.

“Oh,” Matt sobbed, legs curling up around John's waist. “Oh, oh, John, God!”

He was close; clenching rhythmically around John's cock and breathing in hitching little puffs of ear. John stroked hard, nipping a little on whatever skin he could reach, and Matt came magnificently. Screaming John's name, he shuddered against the hard body above his own, releasing into John's hand.

With a deep growl, vibrating against Matt's neck, John bucked into the smaller body, fire racing through him as he spent himself deep inside Matt. “Matty!”

Panting like he'd run a marathon, John gently pulled out, then laid down on top of Matt. He felt the hacker melt into the couch beneath him, felt him clingily pull John's body down on top of his own.

“Mmph,” Matt muttered, “chafing.”

John grinned. He was still dressed, and he'd bet his ass that the insides of Matt's thighs were rubbed raw. “Sorry, kid. I'll make it up to you some other time.”

“Don't care,” Matt yawned. “Mm, you're warm.”

“Hey, Matt. Matt! You can't sleep now, it's only six in the afternoon! Come on, wakey wakey. I'll make you coffee,” John chuckled. He got up and pulled the condom off, threw it in the trash and washed his hands. He was cooking, after all.

“Extra large one,” Matt muttered sleepily, rolling around on the couch.

“Get dressed, and you can have your caffeine,” John said with a smirk.

“In a minute. Hey, John?”

“What, kid?”

“You got any Tom Jones in that collection of yours?”


End file.
